Page 70 of Saddles and Snowstorms
“I know you do, sugar. I’ve known for a while,” she said with a smile, then glanced at my half-eaten plate. “Now finish your dinner before it gets cold. Can’t go winning back your man on an empty stomach.”
I managed to clean my plate, though I barely tasted the food. My mind was racing with possibilities. How could I prove to Brooks that I wasn’t going anywhere? That Sagebrush was my home now?
The bell above the door jingled, and I turned instinctively, heart leaping into my throat. But it wasn’t Brooks—just Mrs. Henderson from the library coming in for her evening tea.
“You know,” Dolly said, watching me with knowing eyes, “that ranch of his might be a good place to expand your practice. He’s got a lot of land for so few cattle and it’s just goin’ to seed.”
I looked up at her, my fork halfway to my mouth. “What do you mean?”
“Well, I’ve been thinkin’. You’re always complainin’ about not having enough space for the larger animals, and old Mercer’s clinic you bought is barely big enough for the small ones.” She wiped down the counter with a practiced sweep. “Brooks has that old barn he barely uses since he downsized his herd after Joe died. Might make a fine place for treatin’ horses and cattle if someone fixed it up proper.”
The idea hit me like a lightning bolt. A large animal facility outsideof town—something Sagebrush desperately needed. I’d been sending folks all the way to Amarillo for serious cases. If I invested in something like that here...
“Dolly, you’re a genius,” I said, pushing away from the counter.
“Where do you think you’re going? You haven’t even had dessert.”
“No time,” I called over my shoulder, already halfway to the door. “I’ve got calls to make!”
“Don’t you go barging in on him tonight!” she hollered after me. “That man needs to stew a bit more!”
I waved in acknowledgment without looking back. My phone was already in my hand, my fingers searching for a number I’d come across when I bought the clinic. There was a big smile on my face and a fierce sense of hope filling my chest. If I could pull this off and make Brooks understand, maybe… just maybe, he would stop pushing me away at last.
It was time to put down roots.
Chapter 25
Brooks
Ihated myself for what I’d done.
It had been a week since I’d told Rowan to leave, practically telling him I wanted nothing to do with him. It was a lie of course, but one I was intent on sticking to. I had my reasons and as far as I was concerned, they were sound. I just wished it didn’t hurt so damn bad.
But who was I to tell Rowan to stay? We’d known each other for all of two months, if that. And most of that time was just professional. He was my vet, I was a client. We didn’t share any information beyond that. It wasn’t until the goddamned blizzard that everything got out of hand. He saved my life and in a moment of weakness, I let him in. I shouldn’t have. I should’ve stuck to my guns like I always did and kept to myself.
Because I knew what was going to happen. Rowan was going to take his old boss’s offer. Why wouldn’t he? A life of comfort and prosperity in the city that he loved so much was more than most people could imagine. Rowan would have the best of everything, all the money he could dream of, and a fairy tale life that few would ever get to experience. How could he turn that down?
So, I did what I knew I had to do. I pushed him away. The last thing I wanted was for Rowan to stay because he thought we had something, only for him to regret it a few months or a year down the road. One day he would wake up and realize that I was old and grumpy, a prizenobody would exchange a lifetime of success for. And then he’d either leave or he’d hold it against me. Maybe not on purpose, but we’d grow apart, and things would become dull. The spark we once had would go out.
That, more than anything, was far more terrifying than him leaving. I’d rather he left now with some good memories between us than watch him grow to despise me. And besides, if he left now, I could get the goodbye over with and go back to my lonely life. For the first time ever, I got to say farewell on my terms. And while I wasn’t happy about it, at least I’d have nobody to blame but myself. I couldn’t bear the thought of being angry at him. Better I should take the blame and be done with it.
So, I went back to my everyday, quiet life. The cattle needed feeding, the horses had to be brushed, and Hank had to be kept calm so he didn’t injure his leg further. I did everything I could to lose myself in the humdrum chores of everyday farm life. And sometimes, for a moment or two, I forgot about Sagebrush and the world around me. Rowan, however, never left my mind. Even in the darkest, deepest part of my dreams he was there, calling my name.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wake up in the middle of the night reaching for him. My body had gotten used to his warmth, his steady breathing, the way he’d curl against me in his sleep. Now the bed felt too big, too empty, and too damn cold.
This morning was no different. I woke before dawn, as usual, my hand stretching across sheets that hadn’t been slept in by anyone but me. I cursed under my breath and forced myself up. No use dwelling on it. The animals wouldn’t feed themselves.
The brisk morning air hit me like a slap when I stepped outside. February in northern Texas was unforgiving, especially before sunrise. I pulled my coat tighter around me and trudged toward the barn, my boots crunching on the frost-covered ground.
“Morning,” I mumbled to the horses as I entered. They nickered in response, eager for their breakfast. At least someone was happy to see me.
I was halfway through my morning chores when I heard the sound of tires on gravel. My heart jumped to my throat before I could stop it. Visitors were rare out here, especially this early. I set down the hay forkand made my way outside. The sun was just peeking over the horizon, casting long shadows across my property.
I squinted against the light, trying to make out who was coming up my drive. It wasn’t Rowan’s truck—I’d recognize that old beat-up thing anywhere. This was a sleek black SUV, city wheels if I ever saw them.
My stomach knotted. Probably some developer looking to buy up land. They’d been sniffing around these parts lately, offering “generous” sums to struggling ranchers. Well, I wasn’t struggling, and I sure as hell wasn’t selling. My family’s land was all I had left.
The SUV came to a stop, and the driver’s door opened. A tall woman in a tailored pantsuit stepped out, her heels immediately sinking into the soft ground. She looked down at them with dismay before plastering on a professional smile.
